The First First

Had my first kiss.  Oh God.  Not the good kind, but the oh God, why do I start talking to boys that I’m not terribly interested in so they get the wrong signals and Mother of All that is Holy, I really hope that I don’t get mononucleosis.  I never thought that this might be a concern until I came to this school.  The concept of “hooking up” is rather lost on me, but I’m pretty sure that it means that you make out with a guy, then see him the next day and have him ignore you.  This is probably for the best, since it was terribly awkward.  Do you remember when you were a good little child?  I almost miss those days.  But at least that milestone is out of the way?  I suppose that having your first kiss lying on the ground under the stars is meant to be romantic.  I can’t get the grass stains out of my jeans and I still have dirt in my hair.  I’m also pretty sure that I’m allergic to the weeds that we were on, since my arms have broken out in hives.  Romantic indeed.  My God.  All I can think of is “sucking mechanism” right now.  Whatever, I’m sure he’ll never talk to me again.

Just Say Yes

I decided to stop leading such a depressive life and try to make friends.  It’s working surprisingly well, actually.  Mainly because I’ve discovered alcohol.  And no, I have not become some sort of closet drinker.  But after being known as the “designated walker” for going out to parties with my friends but never drinking anything, I have come to understand the power of the red cup.  It’s wondrous, really.  I have something to do with my hands, I appear more “mellow” (mainly because others believe that there is a chance of intoxication) and for once in my life, I’m giving in to peer pressure.  It feels delicious.

Philosophy

“You’re like Hobbes’s state of nature.  Nasty, brutish, and short.”

-Edward

Socialization

I’ve started making a concerted effort to talk to others.  So far this has included me mumbling at the sweet librarian who walks by the table where I study, awkwardly conversing with other students while I attempt to run away, and having long conversations with my laptop, who has become an excellent companion.  I can totally do this whole college thing.

Blame in on the Alcohol

I hate meeting people when they’re drunk.  Here I am, all orange soda happy, and they start every conversation with “I’m not going to remember this in the morning, but…” I remember everything.  And I still have a good time.  It wasn’t that I was never going to drink in college, but after seeing others, I just really don’t want to now.

But Actually, School

Classes:

Honors Philosophy Seminar

Introduction to American Politics

The American Novelist

Calculus II

School: 1000 Lila: 2

(The two are solely based on the fact that we got cookies in math class today)

Oh Right, School

Dear Senior Year,

How could you lure me into such a false sense of security?  Sure, I applied to colleges.  I believe it was 20, to be exact.  Supplements, personal statements, letters of recommendations, all of that was quite brutal in conjunction with 4 AP classes, the ACT, and all of those extracurricular activities.  You did not, however, prepare me for 300 pages of reading a week and papers due at an alarmingly constant rate.  My life has become so tragic so quickly.  And she was so young.

Best,

Lila